


The Met Files

by Augustus



Series: Dollar Bills [3]
Category: The Bill, The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-23
Updated: 2000-08-23
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustus/pseuds/Augustus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If The Bill were American - take three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Met Files

_(The FBI building. The camera moves down the corridor - accompanied by the prerequisite eerie music - and enters the office of Assistant Director Meadows. He is sitting at his desk, sifting through paperwork. There is a blinding flash of light from the window. When everything returns to "normal", Meadows has disappeared…_

_Cue opening credits. Various pictures of paranormal scenes flash across the screen to spooky - and yet rather catchy - backing music. We are shown images of Agent Geoff Daly's and Agent Kerry Holmes' FBI I.D.s before it's back to the weird stuff. Finally the music fades and the visuals are replaced by black._

_Cut to Daly's office. He is wearing a cheap looking suit and digging through a filing cabinet, back to camera. There is a knock at the door.)_

DALY: Yeah?

_(Enter Holmes. She's wearing a business suit of her own. Her hair is the shade of red least suited to undercover investigations. Her voice remains a monotone throughout.)_

HOLMES: I'm afraid it's bad news, Daly.

DALY: What now? Have aliens abducted another member of my family? Am I on the hit list of yet another conspiracy organisation?

HOLMES: Worse.

DALY: _(Leaping from his desk)_ Don't tell me they've taken my plaid shirt collection!

_(Holmes raises a hand to stop him from dashing back to his apartment to check.)_

HOLMES: No, your shirts are safe. It's… it's Assistant Director Meadows!

DALY: What? He wants me in his office for another lecture?

_(He moves as if to head off to face the music.)_

DALY: As long as he doesn't rant on about wanting to be Sutie Impendent again. Hell, I don't even think the FBI _has_ Superintendents and if they did I doubt they'd be promoting a drunken sot like him to the position…

HOLMES: It's not that, Daly. I'm afraid he's…

DALY: What? Drunk? Insane?

HOLMES: Gone! He's been kidnapped!

_(Daly frowns, looking back over at the filing cabinet.)_

DALY: Kidnapped… or _abducted_?

HOLMES: Oh, Daly, do you have to relate _everything_ back to those damn aliens of yours?

DALY: It's my job.

HOLMES: Not today, it isn't. We've been given the Meadows case. We're to find out who - 

DALY: _(Jumping in)_ \- or what…

HOLMES: _(Firmly)_ _Who_ captured him. And why?

DALY: That's a good question.

HOLMES: _(Musing)_ Who would want to abduct a middle-aged, balding Assistant Director?

DALY: Someone with peculiar taste in men?

HOLMES: Perhaps someone with a grudge against the FBI.

DALY: Was he working on any cases at the moment? Perhaps he got too close to something sensitive.

HOLMES: _(Raising an eyebrow)_ Meadows working on a case? You're joking, right? The only times he leaves that office is when he pops down to the hospital for some reason or another.

DALY: True.

_(There's a moment of silence while they both ponder this little poser of a problem.)_

DALY: Are you sure he's actually missing?

HOLMES: What do you mean?

DALY: Well, perhaps he's just wandered off. He could be going a little senile or something - you never know.

HOLMES: He's not _that_ old, Daly.

DALY: Well? I don't see you coming up with anything.

HOLMES: I still think it's something to do with his role as Assistant Director. That's a big card to have up your sleeve if you want to trump the FBI.

DALY: Well _I_ still think it's aliens. Who else would want him?

HOLMES: The mob?

DALY: _(Smirking)_ Should I be looking out for a horse's head when I climb into bed tonight?

HOLMES: This is no joking matter, Daly. Meadows could be in serious danger.

DALY: _(Nods)_ And it's up to us to find out the truth…

_(Assistant Director Meadows' office. Agents Daly and Holmes are ferreting about the place, searching for clues to his disappearance. Holmes digs a file out of a pile on his desk)_

HOLMES: I knew it! Daly! Look at this.

_(Daly moves to her side. Despite the fact that he can now see it for himself, Holmes feels the need to describe it anyway. Lucky for us, huh?)_

HOLMES: It's some sort of contract, but it's not written in English.

DALY: Do you recognise the language?

HOLMES: No…

DALY: It could be an alien dialect.

HOLMES: I think it's more likely that it’s a Middle Eastern language of some variety.

DALY: _(Shrugging)_ You never know.

HOLMES: Do you think it's relevant?

DALY: Who knows? It could be - or it might just be a receipt for an international shipment of plaid shirts.

HOLMES: You're the only one around here into that kinky stuff.

DALY: Oh, you'd be surprised…

_(They resume their searching. Suddenly there is a gasp of discovery and Agent Daly emerges from a pile of papers clutching the Assistant Director's Diary.)_

DALY: Meadows' diary! There could be a clue somewhere in here.

HOLMES: I don't know… are you sure we should be looking in there? We don't want to invade his privacy.

DALY: It's his work diary. _(Shrugging)_ What are we going to find?

_(He flicks through a few pages then recoils in horror.)_

DALY: Eurgh!

HOLMES: What's wrong?

DALY: _(Choking)_ …nude… photos…

HOLMES: I warned you, Daly.

DALY: I know. I think I'll skip to today's appointments.

HOLMES: Somehow I doubt whomever's abducted him rang ahead to make an appointment.

DALY: I'm not suggesting that they gave that as their reason.

_(He flicks to the current day.)_

DALY: Hmm… at ten am he had an appointment with someone he refers to only as "the smoking man". 

HOLMES: That's odd.

DALY: And to make things even odder, he's marked in an appointment with Burnside at eleven.

HOLMES: Burnside? You mean?

DALY: _(Seriously)_ The man who killed my father…

HOLMES: This isn't making sense.

DALY: Does anything ever make sense for us?

HOLMES: Do you think Burnside and this smoking man had anything to do with Meadows' disappearance?

DALY: Yeah. Well - that's if it wasn't aliens.

HOLMES: _(Screaming)_ Enough about the damn aliens!

DALY: The truth is out there.

HOLMES: Yeah, well so are your wacko theories. 

DALY: Thanks for the support, Agent Holmes.

HOLMES: You're welcome. Now, how do you suppose we find these men?

DALY: Should I try his address book?

HOLMES: Nah. Too easy.

_(Daly does so anyway.)_

DALY: Yup! Here's Burnside's address. Oh, and look! That smoking fellow lives just up the road! How convenient.

HOLMES: _(Grumpy at having been proven wrong)_ Yeah. Fantastic.

DALY: I guess we'd better head out there.

HOLMES: Your car or mine?

DALY: Neither. When have we ever carried out investigations in our own city? They live in Texas. I suggest we fly.

HOLMES: _(As they walk out the door)_ Accounts aren't going to like this.

DALY: _(His voice fading as they disappear)_ Accounts don't like anything. Hey, I wonder if Texas has different plaid shirts to the ones you can get here…

_(We're now located somewhere in Texas. Holmes and Daly are walking up the front path of a very middle-class American style home. Daly knocks manfully on the front door. Burnside himself answers it.)_

BURNSIDE: Daly.

DALY: Burnside.

BURNSIDE: Are you going to tell me why you're here?

HOLMES: Don't try to pretend that you don't know.

DALY: What have you done with Assistant Director Meadows, Burnside?

BURNSIDE: Who?

HOLMES: We know you had an appointment with him this morning. And now he's gone missing.

BURNSIDE: _(Turning to Daly)_ What? No alien abduction theories, Daly?

DALY: Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? No, Burnside, we're all aware that you're more than capable of pulling a stunt like this.

_(Burnside grins evilly.)_

BURNSIDE: Capable? Sure. That doesn't prove I had anything to do with Meadows disappearing, though, does it?

DALY: Since when have I needed proof, Burnside? I know you killed my father, and I know that you had something to do with this. That's enough for me. _(He turns to Holmes)_ Go on, shoot him, Holmes!

HOLMES: Uh, Daly, I don't think that's such a good idea.

DALY: _(Whinging)_ Oh, why not? We never get to shoot anyone.

HOLMES: We're here to find out the truth, not to blast it into oblivion.

DALY: It's an option, though.

HOLMES: _(Firmly)_ No it isn't.

DALY: Damn.

BURNSIDE: Well, much as I'd like to stand around listening to you two squabbling all day, I'm afraid I have to organise my shirt collection.

HOLMES: _(Nodding)_ We'll be in contact.

DALY: _(Eagerly)_ You wouldn't have any plaid, would you?

_(Burnside shuts the door in their faces. They turn and walk down the path.)_

HOLMES: Shall we try that smoking fellow?

DALY: Oh, what's the point? You won't let me shoot him anyway.

_(Holmes' mobile phone rings. She answers and we are party to her side of the conversation.)_

HOLMES: Hello?… Yeah… He _what_ …? When…? What did he say…? Yeah, Okay…

_(She hangs up and turns to look at Daly, eyebrows lowered.)_

HOLMES: That was the FBI. Apparently Assistant Director Meadows is back. 

DALY: What?!? But Burnside…

HOMES: Burnside had nothing to do with it, Daly. Meadows says that he just popped out for a walk.

DALY: What?!? But he _never_ pops out for a walk.

HOLMES: That's what he's saying, Daly. It's not for us to challenge him about it.

DALY: No? We'll see about that. I want the _truth_ , Holmes.

HOLMES: You know, this whole truth motif is getting a little boring, Daly. Can't you get another angle? Like, you're doing this for fame and fortune or something else a little more noughties?

DALY: The truth is out there, Holmes.

HOLMES: Yeah, yeah, whatever. 

_(Back at FBI headquarters. Shot of the inside of Assistant Director's door. There is a knock.)_

MEADOWS: _(Out of shot)_ Come in.

_(Daly and Holmes enter and the shot broadens so that we can see all three people. Daly is staring carefully at Meadows, as if examining him for alien probes.)_

MEADOWS: Ahh, Holmes and Daly. Nice to see you. How was your weekend?

_(The two agents look curiously at each other.)_

DALY: _(Hissed)_ There's something strange going on here, Holmes.

HOLMES: _(Whispered)_ For once I'm inclined to agree with you, Daly.

DALY: _(To Meadows)_ How are you feeling, sir?

MEADOWS: Fine, fine!

HOLMES: Are you sure, sir? After all, you _did_ disappear without trace for several hours.

MEADOWS: It's like I told that nice lad from security. I just went for a walk in the sunshine to clear my head.

DALY: But it's raining out.

MEADOWS: What? No, no it's a lovely day.

_(We can see the storm clouds and downpour through the window behind his back.)_

HOLMES: I think you're ill, sir. Will you let me take you down to one of the medics?

MEADOWS: No need for that! I'm perfectly okay. Why, I think I might go for a surf after work.

DALY: That's it!

_(He turns to Holmes.)_

DALY: I'm taking him down to the lab. This isn't Assistant Director Meadows! This is an impostor! He's too nice, too friendly, too _happy_!

HOLMES: I can't believe I'm saying this, but I…. _(she chokes a little on the word)_ …agree.

_(They each grab an arm and begin to lead Meadows out of the room. Once they have gone, Hollis steps out from behind the filing cabinet and pulls out something rather resembling the Star Wars com-links.)_

HOLLIS: They've taken the subject. There should be no reprisals. Ready to proceed.

_(There is a flash of light and Hollis disappears. As the screen fades, the viewer becomes aware of a circle of lights fading into the distance.)_

**{fin}  
23rd August 2000**


End file.
